EMMA'S POV
The first thing Emma noticed when she woke was the stillness.
Not the peaceful kind—the deliberate, listening quiet that pressed against her ears and made her aware of her own breathing. The city beyond the windows was awake, she knew that much. Cars would already be threading through streets. Offices filling. Decisions being made without her in the room.
But inside the apartment, everything felt paused.
She lay there for a moment, staring at the faint line where the ceiling met the wall, letting her thoughts settle into order. Damian was still beside her this time, his presence solid and warm, one arm heavy across her waist. He slept lightly—always had—but when she shifted, his grip tightened just enough to acknowledge her movement.
"You're thinking too loudly," he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
Emma huffed a quiet breath. "You're not supposed to hear thoughts."
"I hear yours," he said, eyes still closed. "It's a problem."
